


unprecedented

by fan_nerd



Series: a match worth waiting for [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Meeting, Building Relationship, Canon Elements, Fluffy Smut, M/M, a/b/o dynamics, super safe sane and consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:23:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8599729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fan_nerd/pseuds/fan_nerd
Summary: Victor is sweating straight through his clothes."You shouldn't have to see me like this," the older man wheezes, voice sounding terribly broken.He's in heat and Yuuri's heart lurches, because he has absolutely no idea how to handle that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (sup again, i'm here to cry about yoi bc otherwise i cant sleep ✌)
> 
> i'd like to thank the yoi fandom for such a warm welcome on all my fics. you guys are so sweet. this is super duper self-indulgent and if anyone reads this i will be so surprised. anywho, hope you enjoy, and have a great day. <3

Victor is led to a meeting room by a heavyset woman with a placid expression. As they walk down the halls, his eyes wander over pictures of places he's been. Vienna. London. Paris. Milan. Thinking about these places and his hollow victories makes him rather bored, so he focuses on the bounce of the curly hair in front of him and tries very hard not to fiddle with his coat pockets.

"It's right there," she says quietly, her voice melodic as she points to a room about three doors up on the left. She pauses and fiddles with her long necklace, moving so that he is directed by her sweeping limbs. "Go ahead. I'll follow you in after I get a glass of water. Can I get you anything?"

He shakes his head _no_ and heads inside. Once there, he settles into a lounge chair and shrugs off his coat. Resisting the urge to pull out his phone and check his social media, he jostles his legs impatiently and taps his fingers against the seams of his jeans.

The woman slips into the room, bag on one arm and glass of water in her opposite hand. She sits in the lounge chair across from him with a patient smile.

"Hello, Victor," she starts with one slow sip. "My name is Julianne."

"Morning," he replies casually, grinning back at her. "How do you do?"

"I'm well," Julianne answers. "Thanks for asking." She shuffles to put her bag down next to the glass and settles her hands in her lap. "But then, we're not here to talk about me. Tell me about yourself."

Internally, Victor sighs. It's not as if he hasn't had this conversation with a million therapists and doctors before. The only thing novel about this experience is that he is meeting a matchmaker proficient in pairing people by their secondary genders, and that Yakov had ordered this meeting upon threat of expulsion. Outwardly, Victor flashes Julianne a brilliant smile. "There is not much to tell."

"Really?" Her head tilts and she offers him a smile just a coy as the one he'd offered her. "I'm sure someone of your renown has at least one interesting story to tell a nosy old woman."

Victor chuckles. "I suppose neither of us have a reason for pleasantries."

Julianne shrugs. "I am never against small talk. It's all a part of the job."

He laughs more honestly this time. "Very well, then. I am Victor Nikiforov, professional figure skater. I suppose I have hit a bit of a slump, although my record is far to the contrary. My coach believes this mental block to be the fault of my, how to say..." He drawls, choosing his words carefully. Although he's far from his home here in America, there is no end to his natural paranoia about the subjects of his romantic fancies. "Yakov thinks that I am lonely."

"And," Julianne hums in agreement, her English soft and musical, "Do  _you_ believe that you're lonely?"

Victor halts at the question, then tilts his head. "I suppose that I've never had the time to think about it."

He has his dog and his job, which is a sport that he both adores and is record-shatteringly good at. There is hardly time for him to go home and sleep, let alone worry about feeling lonely. He's not exactly proud of his history of trysts, but when he is bored and in need of some kind of companionship, they keep him going through the cold nights.

"I suppose my private life is rather...dismal." Upon reflection, it's pretty awful, but he's always been so busy training that he's never had time to do anything other than dream up new routines in his free time. "I don't mind it."

"Are you against meeting someone?"

Cool blue eyes study Julianne's hazel ones and he sighs again. "No. I suppose that I am not."

She smiles and digs into her bag for a binder. "Alright, then." After she opens the tome up, she flicks her hair behind her ears and crosses her legs. "Do you have a preference?"

"Excuse me?" He blinks in surprise.

"You know. Male, female, other; alpha, beta, omega." Victor is hilariously caught off-guard, and she laughs at his wide-eyed expression. "What? You've never been asked that before?"

"It is a bit, er, _uncouth_ , in Russia." He laughs dryly. "I don't have a preference." After a pause, he holds up a hand. " _Ah_ , I suppose, if I had to choose, there is just one thing that I do prefer in a companion."

Once he tells her, she laughs and flits through the pages to hand him three written-up sheets that have pictures attached.

He reads them and almost immediately picks the sheet on the right.

Victor still isn't  _pleased_ with Yakov for setting this up for him, but if his coach has taken the time and effort to arrange all of this, Victor figures that he might as well get a kick out of the excursion.

//

Yuuri Katsuki is small and unassuming.

He gapes open-mouthed when he sees who comes to sit across from him at his favorite semi-casual dining establishment. The Japanese man barely keeps himself from pointing a finger at Victor in shock, whispering, "You're... _you're_..." Once he takes a seat, breath gone from his lungs, he whispers, " _What are you doing here_?"

"Am I not allowed to be?" Victor flashes a bright smile and Yuuri groans into the table.

"You're supposed to be across the world winning every figure skating competition known to man," Yuuri heatedly whispers, face quickly coloring. "Oh my god, I'm so underdressed."

"Not true! You look great." Victor feels a bit like a fox, toying with the younger man so very easily. "Nice to meet you, by the way."

"What kind of weird alter-universe is this?" Yuuri shakily takes his seat, holding out his hand with darting eyes. Sucking in a sharp breath, he replies, "Nice to meet you. Or, more like," his voice dips low and he murmurs, " _W_ _ho doesn't know you_ _already_ , are you joking me?"

"Of course not!" Victor dramatically puts his hand on his chest, unable to stop grinning at Yuuri's delightfully honest expressions. "Besides, there aren't  _that_ many people deeply invested in figure skating."

"Okay, yeah, sure," Yuuri hisses, "But there aren't that many men in the  _world_ who make it to the cover of _GQ_  for an article about the world's most handsome bachelors either."

Victor grins. "So, I take it that you're a fan?"

"You ass," Yuuri groans. "You've met me. Twice, even."

His companion across the table purrs. "I  _know_."

Yuuri slumps into his seat and covers his face with a menu, barely containing a whine. "I give up."

"Oh, just enjoy it," Victor says, casually footing around Yuuri's legs underneath the table. Yuuri bristles nervously and draws his feet underneath his chair, lowering the menu to glare at the Russian man. "I didn't know that you were on the market."

Yuuri's face is dark with an embarrassed flush. "I don't advertise it, exactly. Besides, everyone knows I'm single." Despairingly, he finishes, "I'm  _always_ single." After that sad admittance, he points a fork at Victor. "What about you, huh? You never talked about looking for anyone either, not that you  _need_ to. The season just ended, so what are you doing in the states?"

"It is my vacation, or should I say," Victor pauses to order a drink, and then finishes, "Yakov made me come here."

"What, your coach did? What, he thinks you need to find your special someone here or something? You're the best in the world - what the hell else could he want?" Yuuri laughs self-depreciatingly at that.

"It's getting boring and I'm getting old," Victor admits easily, feeling far more comfortable with Yuuri than he expected to be. "Yakov wants me to find... _inspiration_."

"So, you found me instead?" Yuuri sighs, looking up to order after the server brings their glasses of wine. "Great."

"Who says that you cannot be my inspiration?"

"I say," the twenty-three year old grouses around his glass. "My record hasn't been great, and I don't think watching me fall on the ice is exactly what Yakov wanted you to do when he sent you over here."

"Well, how about a proposition?" Victor asks, folding his hands on the table with a sly grin. "I daresay it's a win-win for both of us."

Yuuri squints his eyes as he downs his wine. "The way you said that makes me nervous."

Victor chuckles. "At least hear me out before you dismiss me."

The younger man pouts cutely and Victor laughs again. "I  _am_ listening." It is so disgustingly obvious that he admires Victor in the way that his dark eyes follow every tiny movement the older man makes and it is  _intoxicating_ to Victor.

"One," Victor opens, one long finger tracing the stem of the wine glass as he tips towards his mouth. "You let me choreograph a special program for you."

Yuuri gapes. "What, like, you actually  _want_ to make one for me?"

He shrugs. "Why not? Your form is beautiful, and your footwork is sublime. All you're missing is a little confidence."

Yuuri flushes at the compliment. "I mean, what the hell? Okay, _wow,_  if you really want to."

"Great! Two," the Russian hums, finishing his glass in time with Yuuri, feeling heat begin to climb to his nose. "I hear you're planning to go home soon. Take me with you."

Yuuri's jaw drops. "What the fuck? Why?"

"I don't want to go home just yet!" Victor whines. "I am not overly fond of America, and I've only been to Japan for a competition one time. I've heard rumors that you're from a small city. Detroit is crowded."

"Where are you even supposed to stay?" Yuuri's eyes are darting all over Victor's expressive face, trying to get a read on him.

"With you?" Victor looks through his long lashes, hoping that he looks as seductive as he is rumored to be in the papers. Yuuri mutters and flushes up to his ears. "If you have a better idea, I'm all ears."

"I...um, I guess I can...figure something out."

"Excellent!" Victor licks his lips and orders another round of wine for the both of them when their server brings the appetizer. "Three, we give this relationship a trial run. Six months, anything goes. Nothing kept secret, no holds barred. I may be your first relationship, but I want both of us to enjoy it as long as possible." He grins around bits of calamari, flashing his teeth at Yuuri. "Of course, even if things don't work out, I'll take you to the podium at the Grand Prix."

"Er, what?" Yuuri's mind whirls. "I'm...dating, me? And skating? What the hell is even  _happening_ here?"

"Why not? You're attractive, talented - a bit overweight, yes, but we can fix this." Victor grins guilelessly, snickering a bit when Yuuri flinches at the comment about his weight. "I would love to have you, if you would have me. Do we have a deal?"

Yuuri warily studies Victor's outstretched hand. "You're probably just messing with me."

"I would never!" Victor pouts. "If there is nothing else you can trust, at least put faith in the ice. Once we skate together, you'll understand my sincerity."

Yuuri looks at Victor's hand one more time, only looking away from him to thank the server for their drinks. He sighs and picks up his glass, too nervous to shake hands with his long-time idol. "Toast on it."

Victor picks up his glass and clinks it heartily, grin toothy as he smiles back at Yuuri. "You won't regret it."

Unfortunately, Yuuri has the feeling that he already does.

//

Yuuri calls his parents to warn them, speaking in swift, soft Japanese.

His flight leaves the week before Victor's, so there's time to organize the guest room before the man comes over. He's still incredibly nervous about everything - the dating; the skating; meeting Victor Nikiforov for dinner and drinks in real life; Victor Nikiforov moving into his house.  _What the hell_.

Once he gets home, he hits Minako's ballet studio with fervor, running up the slopes of his childhood town in an effort to slim down. The rink that the Nishigori family runs is as pristine as always, and skating helps clear his mind of the myriad of messy thoughts that run through it.

Victor arrives and pushes him even further than he pushed himself. Every evening, he collapses in his room without a thought for Victor, who had all but retired in order to chase this whim he'd discovered in the US, much to Yakov's frustration.

On weekends, he shows Victor around, trying to get used to the feeling of strong arms wrapped around his middle and the sweet scent of Victor's skin cloying all over his own. He asks to sleep with Yuuri and is denied, but in the daylight hours they bathe together, lie underneath the  _kotatsu_ together, and doze off in robes between practice sessions.

Their fingers keep slipping together and Yuuri is almost affronted by how quickly he has become used to broad hands exploring his form and breathy, stilted English whispering in his ears. About two months after their cohabitation begins, Yuuri pads over to Victor's room and just asks to  _sleep_ with him, nothing more. Victor happily lets him in, curling against his sore back and burrowing into his warmth.

Yuuri sighs, feeling a weight lifted off his chest. He relaxes once Victor's scent is heady around him, unthinking of why, exactly, that might be.

//

Before he has too much time to wonder about taking their relationship to the next level, Yuri Plisetsky arrives on his doorstep. He's small and absolutely infuriated with Victor for leaving the ice competitively. The two of them speak to each other in fast-paced Russian, slurred and sloppy. Yuuri just watches with baited breath, hoping that the conversation doesn't end with the blonde punching Victor in the teeth.

Somehow, it turns into an impromptu competition at Ice Castle Hasetsu.

Yuri challenges Yuuri to a skate-off. Yuuri hasn't been on the ice much, as he's been training to get back in shape as well as going through his basics, but he feels fury rise in his blood as the Russian Yuri talks to him.

"You don't deserve Victor! Let him go home!"

Yuuri is more than peeved at that -  _Victor_ was the one who had come up with this crazy idea, not him. Besides, it's not as though he feels that he deserves to have the famous man coaching him, either, but since he  _offered_ , Yuuri feels like he should at least live up to the hype Victor has instilled in him by coming to teach him.

Victor pushes Yuuri's hair back before the show, watches him try on costumes that he'd flown home en masse, and compliments Yuuri every step of the way. Yuuri preens at the attention, suddenly eager to burrow into Victor's arms and just breathe the taller man in.

They spend the whole month working on routines and jumps. The two Yuri's even support each other when Victor is nowhere to be found. By the time the competition rolls around, Yuuri can no longer contain his feelings.

He's been constantly on the verge of just giving in, but there, full of nervous tension and a desire to impress, he pulls Victor to him. His fingers shake as they curl in Victor's jacket. "I'm not letting you go home so easily."

Victor pulls him in, airily sinking into Yuuri's warmth. "I'm happy to hear you say that, Yuuri."

//

Yuri leaves, totally disgusted with the lovebirds, full of renewed vigor to take the other Yuuri off of the podium at the senior Grand Prix.

//

The weeks following Plisetsky's departure, Victor and Yuuri fall into a very comfortable routine. Practice is grueling during the daylight hours, either ballet or skating, but then they pad to each other's rooms at night.

Sometimes they languidly kiss. Sometimes they just curl up and relax, telling funny stories to each other, listening to classical music playing in the background while Makkachin lies across their feet.

After a few months of this, Yuuri starts to get nervous. Victor had said that these six months were a trial run, and he's desperately worried that he's going to screw it up for both of them. He's starting to love getting that silly little pout from Victor when he messes with the crown of his hair, or his soft, genuine laugh when Yuuri lets him kiss him after he takes off his shirt.

Then, as if cementing his anxiety, Victor starts to pull away from him. Victor is usually draped over him like a comfortable sweater, arms clinging and hands wandering without a care in the world who sees them. When he starts hurrying back to his room with nothing but a quick peck on the cheeks, even going so far as to command Makkachin to stay out of his room, Yuuri truly gets concerned.

Victor comes to the rink bundled up, hair in disarray, and it dawns on Yuuri what the distance may draw from. He's still worried for their potential relationship, sure, but it gives him a sense of purpose, making sure Victor is well.

He goes to Victor's room after the older man slinks away from the dinner table and knocks softly. Yuuri pauses for a moment to pet Makkachin while Victor says nothing, and then he sighs. "Can I come in, Victor? If you say no, that's fine. I just want to make sure you're hydrated."

Victor makes a pitiful noise and Yuuri opens the door cautiously, keeping Makkachin out in the hall while he slips inside.

Immediately, the powerful scent assaults his nose and Yuuri takes a few moments to regain his sense of calm before he pads to Victor's side, kneeling and taking his temperature. "You're burning up, stupid."

Victor groans, burying his face in the pillows. "I didn't want you to see me like this."

"I'm your boyfriend," Yuuri shrugs, opening the bottle of water he'd brought in with him. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I knew it would...come up eventually," Victor admits, sweaty palms barely holding the plastic. "I wasn't sure you were ready to talk about this."

Yuuri shakes his head. "We should talk once you're feeling better."

Victor laughs sadly. "Because you're...no longer interested?"

"No," Yuuri answers sternly, taking the water from Victor's shaking hands. "Because neither of us are thinking clearly right now. We'll talk in a few days."

"You're horrible," Victor whines high in his throat and Yuuri swallows dryly.

Yuuri stands up on wobbly legs, slipping out of the room with a smile. "It's just a few days, Victor." Yuuri slips out of the room quickly, face flushed. His erection is prominent and he'd been just moments away from jumping and scenting Victor, rutting against him senselessly. There's no romance in that, and no real feeling. Yuuri needs Victor to know that what they have isn't something clouded by nature.

But  _goddamn_ had Victor been beautiful, and he'd smelled fantastic. Yuuri has to shake the images of the man out of his head as he fidgets restlessly for the rest of the evening.

//

The next week, Victor looks exhausted, but his blue eyes are clear as he studies Yuuri on the ice. His criticisms are sharp and perfect. Yuuri breathes a sigh of relief at the end of practice, smiling at Victor as they walk home.

Quietly, Victor weaves their hands together and pulls Yuuri to a stop as he leans against the smaller man's back. "So, as I'm sure you've discovered, I'm an omega."

"I'm an alpha, but that's neither here nor there," Yuuri assures him, laughing a bit. "I was pretty surprised. You really filled out after the juniors, so everyone thought you were a beta, at least."

"Science disproved that secondary nature determined build a long time ago," Victor murmurs softly, hugging Yuuri tightly. "Thank you for your patience with me."

Yuuri slips out of his hold to turn around and grasp Victor's hands. "I care about you, Victor. I'd wait for you through anything you needed me to."

Victor sighs into Yuuri's shoulders. "I wish you had told me these things  _last_ week."

"You could have told me first, you know," Yuuri teases. "You were the one who was like,  _no holds barred_ , or something, way back."

"Yes, because I expected that you would  _ravish_ me when I was dying," Victor whines. "I am perfectly content with you having your way with me at any time. You don't have to wait for my heats."

"I'd prefer to do it when you're lucid, honestly," Yuuri admits sheepishly. "I feel like there would be too much pressure to be a domineering alpha or something if you were in heat. There has to be a lot of trust."

Victor smiles fondly. "I suppose that's true." Victor squeezes Yuuri tightly against him. "Then again, I can only hope that you'll feel comfortable enough with me to try it some day."

Yuuri colors at the very idea, flustered beyond belief. "I guess I'll...think about it."

The two of them walk home with interlocked arms.

//

Before long, four months slips into five, then six, and then seven. Yuuri and Victor are becoming an inseperable entity, one never mentioned without the other when they're seen about town or are traveling for competitions. Yuuri's family welcomes Victor like their own, treating him to wholesome meals and taking care of his dog while they are gone.

The Katsuki matriarch goes so far as to ask Victor when he's going to propose to their timid alpha of a son, to which Victor bellowingly laughs and says that he'll have to work out a date in the future.

Competitions take up most of their time through the Fall and Winter. For better or worse, Victor feels his heat coming on right around the Cup of China finale. Instead of drawing into himself in isolation, Yuuri finds that Victor is clingier than ever. Every waking moment his tall boyfriend can manage it, he runs his fingers through Yuuri's hair and curls his arms around Yuuri's sides, blood thrumming under his skin.

Victor lashes out, to his shame, and Yuuri lashes right back, but by the time the Free Skate begins, they are both entirely lost for words. Just an hour ago, when he'd been trying to motivate Yuuri and had failed miserably, he'd thought that their beautifully unveiling relationship would come crashing to end. Instead, he's among a crowd of people who get to witness Yuuri in all of his glory, charismatically stealing the hearts of everyone in the audience, but most importantly, bringing Victor hurtling back to Earth in awe of his boyfriend.

Yuuri is ethereal, gorgeous and charming. Pheremones are oozing out of his pores and Victor's eyes are glued to his fluid form. Before he can think, he rushes over and tackles him to the ground, kissing him senseless. Once the two of them are laid out on the ice, just drinking each other in, Yuuri gives him the softest smile Victor thinks he's ever received in his life and he hurries off of him before he does something even more drastic on international television.

They both say their parts to the media, miraculously managing to dodge the subject of their relationship while professionally talking about Yuuri's program. Both of the men decline invitations from Phichit, Guang Hong, and the rest to go to afterparties. Yuuri and Victor rush to their shared hotel room instead.

Once they get there, Victor paws at Yuuri and Yuuri  _barely_ keeps from pawing back, everything in him wanting to at least hold Victor close and scent him for all the world to know exactly what the nature of their relationship is.

Victor immediately latches himself to Yuuri's abdomen and rolls their hips together. His blue eyes are clouded, his breath hot, and his words are garbled. Yuuri wants to move him to the bed, at least - he's sure that Victor's moments away from slipping into his heat, and he'll be tender.

"Come on," Yuuri murmurs softly, hoping that he sounds comforting. "Bed, Victor. Please."

Victor groans, Yuuri's hands branding him with surging heat as the smaller man moves them to the mattress. Yuuri gently takes Victor's vice-gripped fists off of his sides and peels his layers of clothing off, cooing all the while. "I'm gonna take care of you. You know that, right?"

Victor's eyes are glossy, but he nods through the haze, Yuuri's smell heady and familiar after his performance.

The moment Yuuri peels Victor's pants off, he finds exactly what he'd been afraid of. Victor had worn a protective pad, but he's nearly leaking out of that, he's so wet. Yuuri gulps, trying to steady his breathing and do what he said he was going to, instead of rutting into Victor with reckless abandon and knotting him.

Yuuri takes Victor's underwear off slowly, almost hypnotized with the mess inside. A flush is high on Victor's cheeks, and the older man finally pulls Yuuri down for a kiss. Yuuri pliantly runs his tongue across Victor's teeth for a few minutes, then he pulls away, breath coming just a little bit too quickly. "Victor," he pants, pushing pale hands off of his body. "Victor, stop. You're going into heat. I  _can't_."

Victor keens and whines, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. His pupils are blown, he's slick against the sheets, and he's  _so_ desperate for Yuuri. "Yuuri. Yuuri, I need it. I need you, please. _Please._ "

Yuuri swallows thickly, hormones and pheromones clouding his judgement, and  _god damn it Victor's legs twitching and that fucking smell._ "I just...we can't..." His words are failing him and his glasses are slipping down his nose. "I shouldn't scent and mate you while you're like this."

"I want you to." Victor pulls Yuuri on top of him, stilling the hand that was motioning for a towel to wipe Victor clean. "Please, Yuuri. I've given you my express consent  _dozens_ of times before this. I've told you how I felt. Darling, I adore you even when you do not wish to have sex with me, but with all due respect, I'd fall apart if you'd just mark me as yours."

Yuuri bows his head and groans in exhaustion. He's running out of excuses. "You're in heat."

"Yes, I am, but I am no fool." Victor whispers across Yuuri's chest, achingly desperate for the tan man to just hold him. "I have never been scented before, and trust me," he pulls Yuuri's forehead to his own sweat-slicked one, panting harshly across his partner's lips as he finishes, "I am  _yours_. Your mate, Yuuri. No one else's.  _Please_."

Yuuri's eyes waver, drinking in the erotic sight of Victor begging for him and he opens his mouth, teeth already set on edge and knot building quickly at his lower half. He moves so that his canines pierce the sensitive skin of Victor's shoulder, drawing energy from those words.  _Victor is mine._ His scent floods the room as he keeps his mouth latched there, and Victor throws his head back in tears, sensitive and slicker than ever. His alpha is marking him, close to drawing blood from his glands, and he comes just moments after Yuuri's scent creeps under his skin.

Immediately, calm floods his senses. He flops limply in Yuuri's arms, listening to quiet murmurs and coos as Yuuri pets his hair and finally,  _finally_ manages to wipe him clean. He shakily leaves Victor to sleep after he pushes him into a bundle of warm blankets, trembling at the sight of him.

Victor's pale skin is marred, and he smells delightful even in rest, like the finest glass of wine. Yuuri's own spice is interwoven with Victor's crisp fragrance, and he burrows against him tiredly.

He feels strange, tingly all over, but most importantly, he's  _proud_. He took care of Victor in his time of need. He hadn't slept with him, even though they'd both been hungry for it, but it had been out of respect, not lack of desire. Every few days, he'll have to set the mark again, but he's sure that Victor would be more than happy to oblige this action.

Yuuri dozes off to one strange, eager thought; that Victor's heat will continue for several more days, and he will be there to rock him through it, to please him as only a mate could.

It burns his chest and keeps his heart rate fast until he falls asleep.

//

They wind up staying in China longer than they had initially intended because of Victor's heat.

The morning after Yuuri marks Victor, the older man wakes up flushed, pawing at Yuuri with a glimmer in his eyes. His gaze is full of childlike wonder as he sucks in a deep breath. "You wonderful man." He loops his arms around Yuuri, sliding their hips together languidly. "I adore you."

Yuuri groans, arousal dragging him from the depths of sleep. "Ahhh, stop, you'll get slick again. I feel like I just got you cleaned up five minutes ago."

"What can I say," Victor purrs, grinding his ass against Yuuri and feeling heat rise up his throat. "You are irresistible."

Yuuri keens, carefully pulling Victor against him and kissing his swollen lips. "Listen, I meant to ask you last night. Are you on contraceptives?"

"Yes, of course," Victor replies easily, very much liking where this is going. "I have condoms, toys, and scented lotions, if you like." Yuuri turns bright red at his list and Victor squeals in delight. "I really only need you."

Yuuri glares at him good-naturedly. "You want to have sex at seven in the morning?"

Victor feels for Yuuri underneath the covers, humming when he caresses the building knot of his mate. A flush creeps up both of their noses at the action. "Unless you have a complaint of some kind?" Victor is starting to run slick between his thighs and it makes Yuuri whine when he shakes his head no. "Yes, I'd  _love_ to."

Yuuri draws in a deep breath and kisses Victor softly on the cheek. "Okay." He lets Victor dig for condoms and watches the man's every fluid moment, entranced by the fact that Victor asked him to become his mate.  _The_ Victor Nikiforov. Wow. Victor pads back on to the bed, thighs shining. He lies down, grinning like a madman, pushing the plastic into Yuuri's hands.

"You're welcome to take it slowly, darling," Victor hums happily. "Since you marked me, I feel remarkably calm. I want you to feel comfortable with this."

His hands are shaking as he opens a packet and rolls it over himself, his nose reacting to the sight of Victor's easy body language and eager scent before his brain can catch up. "Okay." Yuuri licks Victor's nape for a few moments, rocking their hips together slowly. "I'm just nervous. I want to be good for you, Victor. I want you to enjoy this."

"Why wouldn't I?" Victor sucks in the scent of Yuuri -  _his Yuuri_ \- sensing his anxiety and smoothing his fingers over Yuuri's shoulders. "It's you. You're fantastic."

Yuuri laughs dryly. "Yeah, yeah." He licks his lips before he gives a Victor a look. "Do I need to do anything before I go inside you?"

"Nope." Victor's breath is coming in shorter bursts now as Yuuri dips down, fingers hovering over his entrance. "I'm ready whenever you are."

They both nod and Yuuri pushes a cautious finger into the dark, wet heat. Victor sucks him in easily, rimmed for a knot in the middle of his heat. The exploratory sensation of Yuuri's calloused finger padding against his walls makes him hiss in pleasure. "More?"

"Please," Victor replies quietly, eyes studying Yuuri's twisted expression as best he can.

Yuuri quickly plunges two more fingers in him and Victor bites his lip, flush rising high over his cheeks now. Yuuri is blushing just as hard as he is, so unused to every feeling. He's virginal and entranced, so absolutely in love with Victor that it seeps out of his pores. Victor gulps down his heady scent by the mouthful, his arousal making him come slick against Yuuri's right hand.

Yuuri pulls out of him half-hypnotized, hungry for more. Victor is all too happy to oblige, bucking their hips together. "Come on, Yuuri." He waits until Yuuri's hair is close enough to grab, and he twirls sweaty strands between his thumbs. " _Knot me_."

Yuuri lets out the most guttural, beautiful sound, and he scrabbles to push inside of Victor with uncharacteristic fervor. It is slick and uncomfortable until Victor adjusts to let him in and his knot expands, filling the crevice it was built for inside of the older man. "Victor," Yuuri exhales slowly, fingers clutched tightly on Victor's shoulders. "Holy shit." He bends low and clenches his eyes shut, overstimulated to the point of bursting. His knot keeps growing inside Victor, tight enough to make Victor gape and sweat, unable to form words. "Victor, are you alright?"

Starstruck, Victor nearly drools as he replies, "Better than fine.  _God_." Yuuri gyrates, reminding both of them that they are gridlocked together, pulsing at the groins and sweating out of their skin. "This is  _wonderful_."

Yuuri chuckles pleasantly. "Thanks. Love you, by the way. You're so  _tight_." He shifts again, dragging his knot within its' crevice in Victor and making both of them moan. Tan fingers run over the planes of Victor's stomach and chest, flat and taut and beautiful. He loves Victor like this, panting and crying for him, whining his name. After a few long minutes, he kisses Victor's temple and wipes away a stray tear. "Still okay?"

"Yes, absolutely." Yuuri feels his knot begin to recede, so he pushes back and forth inside of Victor, happy to feel him come slick against the condom.

Once he fully pulls out, condom terribly full, he comes some more on Victor's legs, awed by the act they've just intimately shared. He cleans up absent-mindedly, murmuring to Victor and brushing Victor's bangs away from his face even though it feels like it takes an hour for Yuuri's erection to fully quell.

After they're clean, he rolls the sheets off of the bed, finds spare blankets in the closet, and dresses Victor lightly for rest.

He pulls sweatpants on after he kisses Victor's hair, dozing off beside the bed with their hands interlaced.

//

Victor is still a grueling and demanding coach. He can spend mornings nuzzling Yuuri's nose with eskimo kisses and run him ragged on the ice. Victor can hold his hand and call him all kind of sweet, sickening nicknames and lie in the tub with him; the next day he can push him to the limits of his physical ability.

Yuuri is happy to see all the realistic facets of Victor, though. He's in love with the Victor who sometimes screws up when he's trying to lift Yuuri's spirits, who cries about his thinning hair, who clings to Yuuri like a child and pouts when Yuuri's parents don't give him a bowl of rice first. Yuuri is proud of himself and Victor, both of them trying to figure this out and make it to the podium for the Grand Prix together. They're challenging themselves every day, both with the language barrier and this beautiful mess of a relationship.

But still, every few days, Yuuri reminds the world exactly what they are to each other with his teeth, shows them with their hugs and his hands and his smiles. He competes stronger and more sensationally than everyone around him, because he tunes them out and proves that he's worth Victor's time.

Victor cheers louder than everyone else, enveloping Yuuri in welcoming arms with every success, falling more and more in love with him every time Yuuri's skates hit the ice.

Victor loves his mate through the media circus, and hopes Yuuri keeps showing this relationship off. Victor is a proud person, excited and unable to hide his joy. He hopes that Yakov is watching them and regretting his actions from all those months ago, watching every kiss with bated breath and cursing at his old protege. It's thanks to his ex-coach that they ever met, anyhow, so perhaps Victor ought to send him a present. (Yakov would  _hate_ it, so that makes him want to do it even more.)

Yuuri flashes him a winning smile when he's done, a flush high on his cheeks, finishing his skate with a bow, and Victor stands right next to him as soon as the cameras flash.

The morning following this competition, a headline summarizes the situation very well.

 _Katsuki and Nikiforov: A Beautiful Match on the Ice_.

Yuuri cuts the paper and frames the article. His excuse is that it's a milestone in his career, but in actuality, it's just such a fond and perfect photo of the two of them that he can't resist the urge to keep it.

Victor hugs him when they get back to their hotel, licking his lips and kissing Yuuri's cheek. "A beautiful match, indeed."

Yuuri rolls his eyes and kisses his boyfriend good night, curling beside him on the mattress and sleeping happily. Victor breathes in the relaxing scent of Yuuri, eyes closing shortly after the shorter man drifts off, fingers pressed into Yuuri's back, pulling him close against his chest.

It isn't perfect, but they manage to consider each other something like home.

**Author's Note:**

> if u made it through this, i'm proud of you and i love you <3


End file.
